Hall: La Jolla is stronger than its stench

La Jolla has a love-hate relationship with the sea, and that little secret became national news Sunday when The New York Times ran a story about some locals raising a stink in the neighborhood.

The locals are actually cormorants and sea lions, whose waste has cemented itself to cliffs in La Jolla Cove for years but in recent months has wafted into the village to repulse residents, merchants and tourists alike. If winds blow the right way on any given day, the smell slithers up Prospect Street to Vons a mile inland.

Yuck.

The Times couldn’t resist. Its headline was, “California cove blessed with nature’s beauty reels from its stench.”

La Jolla’s bipolar beach attitude is hardly news here. Those of us in the enclave have long grumbled about seals, crowded surf spots and the sand our children kick into the backseats of our cars. We’ve groused about traffic, parking and the potential loss of a post office.

But poop? Has it really come to this? Yes, and for good reason.

It’s no laughing matter to merchants such as Megan Heine, whose Brockton Villa restaurant building has overlooked La Jolla Cove since 1894, or George Hauer, whose George’s at the Cove served 275,000 diners last year.

It’s their livelihood.

Hauer started an online petition last month to pressure San Diego Councilwoman Sherri Lightner to clean the excrement at the cove because it is bad for business and “a potential public health disaster.”

He said 20 to 30 hungry people can leave his restaurant on a bad stench day, and one woman even threw up because the smell made her so sick.

Worse, Tripadvisor.com included this review Sunday from someone in Anaheim: “You might want to pick a different part of the Pacific Ocean to visit, and especially if you want to eat overlooking the ocean.”

As luck would have it, the smell wasn’t bad — and hasn’t been for several days since big surf washed much of the guano into the water last week. Rocks once white were brown again.

Unlike those large waves, two 77-year-old swimmers were making light of the rocks. David Lamott joked about spending decades in “bird poop soup.” Bob West quipped, “I thought that was melting snow.”

Denise Hug, a 47-year-old tourist from Kansas, told me the smell couldn’t keep her or her camera away from such a beautiful setting.

“I go to San Francisco probably a couple times a year,” she said. “Down Pier 39? That smells awful. This isn’t as bad.”

When I wasn’t talking to frequent or first-time visitors, I watched as sea lions wrestled and roared on rocks jutting from the water and cormorants skimmed along it. The scene was marvelous, as much for its wildlife as its humanity.